


The Rose that Blooms in Adversity

by spiringempress



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Political Alliances, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-02-08 16:41:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12868695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiringempress/pseuds/spiringempress
Summary: After many years, Faelan Cousland has finally returned home to Ferelden and to her husband, King Alistair. Despite the initial bliss, their relationship faces some new challenges due to old and newfound friends, past choices, as well as, the expectations of court life. Faelan and Alistair must navigate their new life together, and figure out who they've become during their time apart.





	1. The Warden's Return

**Author's Note:**

> I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. IT FILLED MY ALISTAIR x QUEEN COUSLAND SHIPPER HEART WITH SO MUCH JOY TO REUNITE THEM. If only it would happen in real life damn you bioware. Anyways, if you like to live in denial I hope you enjoy this fanfiction and it brings you as much happiness as it was to write it. Stay tuned for more, there’s soooo much I want to explore with their relationship, the inquisition and the effect of some choices.
> 
> So yeah, more characters to be added and smut at some point... maybe the next chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faelan Cousland returns home, but no one recognizes her. Partly relieved, Faelan navigates the streets of Denerim and finds a way to enter the royal palace. However all the while, she can't help but wonder if her husband will recognize her either.

When Faelan stepped into Ferelden territory once more, the scent of home hit her. She stood on a hill that overlooked the landscape and breathed in the wind. She had been born and raised on this soil. It was the place where she had lost her home, joined the wardens and altered her life irrevocably. Her decision to become a grey warden had afforded her great opportunities, but it had also forced her away from her home. With the taint strong in her blood, Faelan had travelled to the far corners of the world to search for a cure and now, she was home. She had slain the archdemon and ended the fifth blight, but the hardest challenge was being away from Ferelden and Alistair.

Suddenly when Faelan thought his name, she felt as if she caught his scent on the wind. Faelan shook her head and laughed to herself. She had been away from Ferelden too long. Doubt suddenly filled her heart. Perhaps she had been away too long and wondered whether she would have any trouble getting into the palace. She swung herself into the saddle of her horse and urged it forward. There was no time to waste sniffing the wind on the border of her _own_ country. Her bones ached with torpidity as her bottom hit the hard leather of her saddle for the millionth and hopefully, last time. Tuppence carried her effortlessly as they traveled as fast as the wind, or at least, Faelan felt like they were. The sun was beginning to descend in the sky when she saw the outskirts of Denerim. Ages ago, Faelan had refused to look back on the sleepy town as she raced away to some grand destiny. Now, it took her breath away because she was so close to sleeping in a real bed with someone that she cared deeply for. The thought made her heart skip a beat and she spurred Tupp forward.

As she crossed the boundaries between the outskirts and the inner city, Faelan couldn’t help but stop and stare. It looked the same, but somehow it had grown and flourished. There were new market stalls and a stone fountain in the middle of the square. The people of Ferelden had prospered in her absence and it made her heart weigh heavy with guilt. Tupp trotted along and she couldn’t help but let her murky thoughts distract her until suddenly, the horse had stopped in front of some guards. Startled, Faelan glanced down at the disgruntled face of the guard. He strode forward and puffed out his chest. Faelan tried not to laugh for his sake.

“What do you think you’re doing miss?!” he shouted, “this is the king’s guard not a jumping obstacle for you to show off on! Well, what are you staring at? Be off with ya.”

Immediately, Faelan stopped smirking. She enjoyed living under the radar, but somehow his lack of recognition only made her feel worse. Perhaps, she had been selfish when she declared herself fit to rule at Alistair’s side. Maybe, Anora would have been a better queen. One who would have garnered respect, awe and even fear from her guards, and not an angry outburst. A queen who was unmistakable. _What kind of queen was she that no one recognized her_? She reined her horse around, trying not to think about it before she tapped Tupp’s sides and trotted up the cobblestone street towards the palace. They followed the road and soon enough, she found herself confronted with the royal palace gate and its guards. A different set, but no one moved a muscle when she arrived at the gate. _Dammit_ , she thought, and her heart sank once more.

For a split second, Faelan felt defeated. However, she reminded herself that she had saved Ferelden by slaying an archdemon. Even if they didn’t remember her now, they would eventually when she took up her mantle. I’ll remind them, she decided. A couple of Denerim guards were not going to stop her from a warm bath and her rightful place as their ruler. She pulled herself up and pushed Tupp forward to the gate. At the last second, she pulled Tupp aside, eyeing the guard and stopped abruptly in front of them. Quickly, she adopted a scowl.

“You there,” she called, gesturing towards a younger guard. He jumped back and timorously looked to a more senior guard with greying temples. The other guard stepped forward and glared up at her. “I’m here to see the king” she commanded.

The guard threw his head back and laughed. “To see the king? You must be joking!” he managed between chortles. “Not anyone can just see the king, especially some random, turned up warrior.”

Anger encouraged her next action, Faelan swung off her horse and advanced towards the man. She stopped herself a breath away from his face. “Do not assume you know who I am. How do you know I am not someone important? I am supposed to meet the king before the sun sets. So imagine if the king finds out you have detained his guest. Do you think he would be pleased?” she asked, watching as the man’s expression faltered. “Just know, I have sensitive information the king wants to hear as soon as possible and you are keeping me from him.”

After Faelan spoke, the guard stumbled back and issued out some commands. The gate began to rise slowly and the guttural sound it made as it elevated cheered her. Her people may not recognize her, but she was still able to command them. She mounted her horse and saluted the guard making a mental note to send an anonymous bag of gold to him.

Once more, Faelan kicked in her heels and urged Tupp forward. She was getting closer to the palace and a devious smirk worked its way across her face. _How ever would she surprise her dear husband?_ Perhaps if she was truly daring she would climb into his bed in the middle of the night and terrify him. And when he turned the light on, she would be splayed out on the bed with a tray of cheese and a flask of wine. At this image, she laughed out loud to herself. However, her cheerfulness dissipated when that image was replaced with a confused Alistair, who didn’t know who she was. There was so much she wanted to tell him, as well as, do with him and to him, but would he know her anymore?

Soon enough, she arrived in the courtyard in low spirits and a stable boy rushed up to her side. Faelan slide off the side of Tupp and patted the horse’s neck before handing over the reigns. The boy asked no questions and disappeared with the horse as quickly as he appeared. She looked up at the palace and watched the Fereldan colors rustle in the wind For a moment, Faelan paused and listened to the bustle of the courtyard as they hurried about preparing for dinner. At that moment, she wished she could bathe before she arrived at court, but unfortunately no one recognized her. _In this state who would_ , she wondered and then her heart plummeted as she conceded, _even Alistair wouldn’t know her_.

With a sigh, Faelan straightened her armor and used her handkerchief to rub her face. It was better than nothing and perhaps, she would be presentable if not identifiable. She strode into the palace and tried not to think about what would happen if no one noticed her. At every corner, she peered around to admire the palace and the changes in decorum. No longer was the hall stuffy and dark. Instead there were windows that stretched towards the ceiling allowing for more natural light. Furthermore, new colorful and vibrant tapestries adorned the walls and Faelan paused to admire their complex intricacies. The runner had also been replaced with a pristine, brightly crimson one, as well as, the throne had become more elaborate. It now had wolf carvings across the top. These two wolves snarled out towards the audience. While the stone bottom exhibited two ferocious war dogs, perfectly sculpted into a rather nice seat.

However, there was something else that caught her eye. Without thought, Faelan found herself in front of the throne and staring at the equally elaborate, although bit smaller, throne that sat next to it. Unlike the main one, it was decorated with she-wolves indicated by the diminutive size. The eyes were inset with dark red stones, probably garnets, but the bottom half took Faelan’s breath away. For the stone dog, which became the seat, was familiar. It was her beloved Kirothius. He sat with his paws out, his tongue lolling and if she turned her head, she could tell that the dog’s eyes looked towards the main throne. Her heart thudded as she wondered what had happened to her mabari.

A sound startled Faelan from her thoughts. Before she could comprehend it, a large weight lunged at her and toppled her over. Suddenly on the ground, Faelan felt herself being covered in sticky, but euphoric wet licks. She laughed, halfheartedly trying to fight off her attacker, Kirothius. He was jumping around, alternating between sniffing her and licking every part of her body.

“Kirothius! Down boy.”

Faelan felt Kirothius's weight pulled off of her. She lowered her hands and stared at the figure of Alistair before her. He was too busy attempting to control Kirothius as he excitedly pranced around and avoided capture. Once again, she was struck with the feeling that he looked exactly how she had left him, but so different. The years had worn him down, as there were more wrinkles around his eyes. His hair was styled in a similar manner, perhaps with a better product, and he was more clean shaven than before. She stood slowly watching him, feeling her stomach clench while her heart began to race

Right at that moment, she noticed he was speaking to her, or moreso Kirothius. “Why are you so excited boy?” he inquired, leaning down to rub the hound’s back while eyeing Kirothius. “I’m so sorry about that. He’s normally very well trained or he responds when I call... This is extraordinarily strange, anyways, I apologize for his behavior. I hope he didn’t-

Alistair looked at Faelan at that precise moment and he stopped talking. His mouth dropped and before he could utter another word. Faelan rushed towards him, pressing her lips against his and wrapping her arms around him. Her hands went into his hair, then clasped his neck, before she ran her hands down to his back, where she pulled him to her. Stunned, he didn’t respond for a couple of seconds, but then he was kissing her back, running his tongue over hers, his hands pressed into her shoulder blades holding her just as tightly. In a few seconds, he pulled away and buried his nose in her neck. For a long moment, they both just held one another.

“Is this _really_ you?” asked Alistair quietly, holding and rocking her gently. “Please tell me you’re real.”

Faelan pulled away rather reluctantly to look at Alistair. His eyes held her and took in every inch of her. “Yes, I am real,” she laughed, clasping his face. She couldn’t speak, too overwhelmed with happiness and so she simply stared at him. _He had recognized her._

Somehow, Alistair brought himself closer to her. “Is it done? Did you find a cure?” he murmured lowly into her hair.

Still overcome, all Faelan could do was nod. Delighted, Alistair lifted her and began swinging her around the room. Their laughter filled the throne room as Kirothius jumped around the two, barking excitedly as he tried to join the fun. Alistair stopped breathless and pressed another kiss against his wife’s mouth.

Eventually, they stopped. Grinning madly, Alistair pressed his forehead against Faelan’s. “We have our entire lives together now,” he whispered.

“And I will actually stand at your side.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“It’s a promise,” said Faelan, taking his hand into hers.

The two walked away from the throne room to a more private one. Alistair called for some wine and cheese. Ecstatic that her husband recognized her, Faelan felt there was nothing standing in their way. They had conquered the blight, found a cure to the grey warden’s taint and somehow survived their long separation. As they walked, Faelan thought about how she intended to keep the promises she had made to her friends, to Ferelden and to Alistair, especially the ones she had sworn after landsmeet. However, she had no idea how the past and her choices would come to haunt her.


	2. Bruised Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally at home in Denerim, Faelan wants to do the only thing that has been on her mind for months: take a proper bath in a real tub. However, the castle has changed in her absence and Faelan has trouble navigating the differences in her home. Faelan begins to wonder about her place in Ferelden and whether she has neglected her duty for too long. Luckily, an old friend soothes her concerns.

The first thing Faelan demanded was a bath. Not only did her body ache, but her body desperately needed to be scrubbed. Washing in random streams had barely been adequate and Faelan had longed to soak in a real tub. As soon as the servants brought the platters of cheese, Bann appeared and whisked Alistair away to a diplomatic meeting. Faelan rose expecting to attend, but Alistair insisted she remain behind and enjoy herself. He carefully pressed a kiss against her forehead and left. Immediately after, Faelan turned towards a servant. She looked barely old enough to leave home, but somehow she was here.

 “Do you mind showing me where the bath is?” she asked, standing and looking around. At this point, she noticed numerous servant girls surrounding her. They all looked at her wide-eyed and diminutively. Faelan realized that she was a stranger to them. The first girl bobbed her head and began to leave the room. Without a second glance, Faelan followed after her. As she followed, it began to dawn on Faelan that the castle had undergone a renovation and no longer resembled the layout she remembered. She tried to follow the twists and turns, but by the time they arrived at the bath, Faelan didn’t know the way back.

 However this thought disappeared as she became distracted by the new and impressive bath. She would have been happy with a wooden tub but this far exceeded her expectations. It was a massive marble tub, inset into the ground and large enough to swim around in. Faelan stared until she looked towards the servant, who waited patiently for her.

Faelan felt flustered. “Um… where is the faucet ?”

Without a word, the servant girl started to move around the room. She plugged the bath and revealed a hidden compartment, where she twisted some bronze knobs and the water began to fill  the basin.  Faelan started to unbuckle her mantle and suddenly felt it lifted away from her back. She whirled around to find the servant behind her. And without thinking, she blurted out, “You don’t need to do that. I can handle it.”

The servant girl curtsied and busied herself with some towels. Feeling awkward, Faelan removed her gauntlets, greaves and the front part of her breastplate. She turned towards the servant girl realizing her mistake.

“What is your name?”

“Marigold,” answered the girl promptly, taking the various pieces of armor from where Faelan had placed them and kept her eyes on the task at hand.

“Well Marigold. If you don’t mind, I would like to bathe alone,” said Faelan. In a second, the girl had disappeared and Faelan removed the rest of her garments.

Soon enough, Faelan slipped into the bath and soaked herself in the glorious heat. She found a bar of soap and scrubbed every inch of her skin until it was pink. Satisfied, she moved to her hair and lathered it enjoying the sensation of clean slick hair. After, she floated in the tub and stared at the tiled ceiling. _I’m not used to the attention anymore_ , her thoughts turning to Marigold. It had been a long time since she lived as a Cousland and less than two years as the queen. Her parents had never wanted to raise children, who relied on servants, instead, her mother particularly, insisted upon independence.

Brynhilde Cousland had been a formidable woman. Faelan had been expertly raised by someone, who swore to never bend the knee. She had ruled at Highever with vicious protectiveness winning the love of her people and family. And sometimes, Faelan wondered if she had tried to reclaim some of her mother’s glory in her actions. The minutes trickled by and Faelan’s skin began to wrinkle. With a sigh, she hauled herself out of the tub and dried off her skin. She found that Marigold had left behind a simple robe and subsequently, she put it on; the dress made her feel out of place in her own skin. In another couple of seconds, Faelan walked out into the hallway and realized that she could not remember the way to her room.

Faelan stood there and tried to hear the tread of someone wandering towards her.  She heard nothing with another sigh, she forged to the left and began to meander; settling on the thought that she would either find her way or someone else, who did. Deep in thought, Faelan stumbled into somebody and the pair went down like a couple of stones. Her skirt became tangled underneath her feet and Faelan struggled to jump up with the same clerity she did in armor. As a result, she flopped around and this spectacle was greeted with a familiar laugh.

Bewildered, Faelan stopped and looked up. The other person had managed to gracefully stand up and stood over the fallen warden with her arms crossed; a motherly grinned fixed on her countenance.

“Maker’s breath,” breathed Faelan, “Wynne? You truly have become an old woman now.”

“Now, now, “ said Wynne sternly. “What happened to the precocious young woman, who used to tiptoe around my feelings? That Faelan would never have called me old to my face.”

Faelan laughed and managed to stand up finally. She embraced the woman and when they pulled apart, Wynne gave her a heart warming.“I cannot believe you are still here!”

“And what? Not dead in the ground,” teased Wynne. “No, my dear. I am still here, although, a bit weaker than I used to be. However, I couldn’t leave our poor Alistair to rule by himself, especially since you decided to up and leave.”

Guilt twinged in Faelan’s heart. She smirked sadly at the woman. “Well, I am back now and I do not intend to leave until Andraste takes me herself.”

The two had begun to walk in the opposite direction. “So it is true?” asked Wynne , peering at Faelan curiously. “You have found a cure to the grey wardens’ taint. That is quite a feat.”

“Not every grey warden can receive this cure,” said Faelan turning to Wynne. “It _is_ an arcane ritual and spell reserved only for those most desperate, and stupid probably.”

“Well, naturally,” agreed Wynne. “The Grey Wardens would cease to be if their recruits could choose to leave and no longer be affected by the nature of their initiation. Will you need my help?”

Her heart caught in her throat. “I wish I could use your help, but I’m afraid it requires the assistance of another old friend.”

“Ahh,” said Wynne knowingly. “Our dear Morrigan. I heard she assisted the inquisition recently. I also heard from the Orlesian court about a young boy in her company.”

Faelan swallowed, feeling herself set on edge. There were very few people, who knew the truth about the boy’s parentage and she had never seen him for herself. The thought of Alistair’s son made her heart hurt; it was something that she had desired for herself for so long. She cleared her throat. “I imagine that motherhood has changed our friend. I would be glad to see her,” she responded before changing the subject, “What did happen with the inquisition?”

“They were successful in their endeavors and defeated Corypheus. However in your absence, they have disbanded, although, there are rumors of their covert activities. You should visit Leliana and ask.”

“Another old friend,” said Faelan thoughtfully. “Oh Wynne. It seems like everything's the same, but it’s not. And I’m afraid that I’ve been away too long. Ever since I came back, I look around and everything has changed for the better. Ferelden has made do without me and I worry it no longer needs me.”

“Now,” said Wynne, turning Faelan to face her. “That is not how the grey warden I knew acted. She was brave and optimistic no matter the odds. Whatever has happened in your absence cannot be changed, but you still can do exactly what you promised. Something tells me that the inquisitor, Valaena, will need the seasoned advice of a grey warden and of course, Alistair has managed without you, but it does not mean he will continue to do so if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“Thank you, Wynne. I needed to hear that. And you’re right, I will do what I promised.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Wynne with a smal. “You never cease to amaze me even  in my advanced age. I also  know that your story is not over yet.”

 

***

With Wynne’s careful eye, Faelan found her way back to her room, or the king’s room. She thrust open the armoire doors and the refreshing scent of home greeted her. Carefully, she threaded her fingers through the unused clothes and pulled out a high collared emerald shirt. It was more elaborate than anything she’d worn for the past years and she stopped for a few seconds to stare at it.

“Incredible.”

Faelan jumped, pulling the shirt to her chest and looking wildly around to find Alistair grinning at her. In response, she smiled at him. “Yes, my dear?”

“It’s just incredible - you’re incredible,” he corrected, moving from the door towards her. In a few moments, he had taken Faelan into his arms, tucking his hands underneath the curve of her back and stared at her with a face splitting grin. “Do you know how often I thought of you while I was in this room?”

“Every time you were lonely?”

Alistair released a low chuckle. “Perhaps, but you are here now.”

In response, Faelan leaned her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around him before resting her hands in the crevice of his back and sighed with contentment. However in the next second, she heard Alistair let out a little murmur of surprise.

“Have you been naked this entire time?” he cried out, pulling away to look at Faelan. During their embrace, her dressing gown had slipped down her shoulders and exposed more than she had intended.

“I thought that’s what you meant by incredible?” teased Faelan with a wicked grin.

Alistair shook his head, turning a bit red. “I- oh Maker. Did you think I meant your- oh and now the lonely bit makes more sense.”

Faelan threw back her head and laughed. “I am wearing a dressing gown,” she said, before pulling him closer to her again. “And you are my husband.”

“It is a very sheer dressing down,” countered Alistair, letting himself be pulled into her grasp.

Faelan leaned up towards her husband, pressing her lips again his and felt her body sink into his. She felt him wrap his fingers into her hair and gently pulled her back. He angled her throat towards him and began to softly suckle on her neck. Faelan felt chills travel down to her toes and warmth pooled into her stomach. Without a thought, she let the sheer dressing gown fall off her shoulders and to the ground. Alistair continued to tease her, covering her neck, her jawline; everything but her lips in his soft kisses. Frustrated, Faelan pushed his hand free of her hair and lounged towards him; their mouths meeting then furiously moving against each other. Faelan felt like she was starving. So long had she been without Alistair so ravenously, she satiated her hunger with his touch, his scent and the feel of his lips against hers.

The two were so enamored with one another did not notice when there came a sharp rap at the door. It wasn’t until someone shouted the king’s name that Alistair pulled away from Faelan. Apparently more accustomed to courtly interruptions. Faelan devilishly grinned at her husband as he straightened his clothes and winked at her, before cupping her chin quickly before turning to the door.

Alistair opened the door revealing a befuddled guard, who peered around the door. Faelan open the armoire once more and obscured his view. She wasn’t listening until she heard the guard mutter her name: Morrigan. Without missing a beat, Faelan whipped her head around and stared at the back of the wooden door as the king and the guard talked.

“Yes sir,” continued the guard, “Lady Morrigan and her son, Kieran, will be arriving in Denerim shortly. A messenger came this morning and announced that the lady seeks the help of the King of Ferelden in matters of great secrecy.”

The room became so quiet that Faelan swore she could hear the guard’s breath. It was a few moments before Alistair finally said, “Alright, prepare the proper greetings for an old friend.”

And with those words, Faelan heard the guard scuttle away and the quiet click of the door closing. Faelan tried to plaster a smile on her face before shutting the armoire doors and looking at her husband. Alistair still faced the door, his body slumped as he leaned against the wooden aperture with one hand extended above his head and held it closed. Faelan walked over to her husband, wrapping her arms around him and held him from behind as her thoughts tumbled over one another.

Foremost, she worried that Alistair would not be strong enough or willing to go through with the ritual. She also feared that how much they had changed could be revealed with Morrigan’s arrival. Maybe Alistair would no longer want their child with the ease of Kieran’s presence. And lastly, her place in Ferelden concerned her. Despite Wynne’s words, she wondered what her purpose in Ferelden was and whether she would be accepted back by her people. Did Alistair even need her or would he want to manage without his queen? However, Wynne's words returns to her. Assured, Faelan decided whatever happens, she would be strong like her mother.


	3. Old Friends, New Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faelan and Alistair deal with the unexpected arrival of old friends, who bring with them a whole set of problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not posting sooner. Literally, I've had this completed chapter sitting in my google docs for a month, but I kept fretting about it. Mostly because I don't know if I can write steamy scenes that are actually good?? I also am trying to figure out later plot points that will seem realistic soo yeah... However I said what the heck and decided to post it so we can all move on with our lives. I just want to write angst about Morrigan/Alistair/Faelan/Kieran and ruin your lives that way and not with my horrible sex scenes. 
> 
> So tldr; I'm sorry for not updating sooner and for WRITING HORRIBLE STEAMY BITS THAT ARE PROBABLY NOT GOOD. I am human trash, but we all are... right? However, it was time for Alistair and Faelan to have their unsexy moment. I hope you enjoy and don't hate me too much.

Faelan dressed in a hurry, picking up the emerald shirt from the floor and pulling it on quickly before she buttoned the front. Her hair was still damp from the bath as she hurried over the vanity and picked up a comb dragging it through her hair. Sneaking glances at herself, Faelan evaluated herself in the mirror. It had been over a year since she had been present at the imperial court, or had access to a mirror. In that time, Faelan discovered that more freckles had blomossed over her cheeks. She could also see a couple of white hairs in her copper locks. On the other hand, her new scar that lanced her top lip had faded in the past year.

Her fingers remembered a complicated style that she always worn at Highever and she began to work briskly. She braided the sides of her hair and wove them into a crown on the top of her head. Looking through her jewelry box, she found a couple of silver combes, decorated with sapphires, that she used to pin the braids in place. Next, Faelan inspected her drawer, grimacing at the outdated makeup before she quickly powdered her face, covered her eyelids in a gold shimmer from the Orlesian court, lined her eyes with indigo, and placed a peach stain on her lips. Once she was done, Faelan stood up, whirled around and found herself looking at Alistair’s bemused face.

She cocked her head and raised her eyebrow questioning. “Something the matter?”

“Nothing,” said Alistair too quickly, recovering and looking down at his feet.

“I don’t think Morrigan is going to care if I’m not up to the latest Orlesian fashion,” stated Faelan, crossing her arms and staring down her husband.

“Oh… well if you’re concerned that I’m worried about your appearance then you’re wrong. You’d look beautiful in a cheese sack, but no, that’s not what I’m uneasy about at the moment,” stated Alistair, looking out of the nearby window. “I’m worried about whether Morrigan will behave.”

The meaning of his words suddenly became clear. Faelan looked at her husband and wondered if he had the right to be concerned. She had never thought of Morrigan as a spiteful person, perhaps a little abrupt and outspoken, and not very sympathetic. Faelan looked at Alistair and wondered, but she wouldn’t bring Kieran to court to gloat? Or to claim some power through his bloodline? Morrigan had sworn on that particular night to never return or parade the boy around as a bastard, but times had changed.

Faelan smiled. “Are you seriously concerned about Morrigan? You’ve always handled her antics in the past. And you’re the king now. She can’t disrespect you in front of your subjects for you could have her drawn and quartered,” teased Faelan.

It was Alistair’s turn to raise his eyebrow at his wife. “I doubt that would stop Morrigan.”

“You’re probably right,” sighed Faelan. She walked over to her husband and grabbed his hand. In return, he brought it up to his chest and looked into Faelan’s eyes.

“Do you think she told Kieran the truth?”

Faelan searched her husband’s eyes and realized how nervous he was about meeting the product of their coupling from years ago. In that moment, her love for Alistair flared strongly. Despite his animosity towards Morrigan, he still cared for Kieran and did not want him to be fatherless. However, her heart also ached with this realization. Her desire to give him a child filled her with a deep seated anguish at her infertility. Quickly, she looked away so he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

“I do not know. The Morrigan we knew swore that she never would, but even motherhood must have softened her a little bit. Unless she is living by Flemeth’s example. Whatever the truth, treat the boy with kindness and if Morrigan permits maybe you can show him around the castle,” recommended Faelan, looking back up at her husband.

His eyes were filled with affection when he leaned down to kiss her. After, Alistair left their quarters while Faelan stayed behind to finish dressing. Her thoughts swirled. She had found the cure, but the guardians had warned that it could only remove the taint and the years might have taken their toll. For the second time, Faelan looked in the mirror, but this time watched a tear trickle down her cheek. Her white hairs also seemed to have multiplied. She quickly brushed the tear away and thought to herself that Kieran might be the only child that Alistair would ever have, but that news could wait until later.

***

Thankfully, Faelan was able to navigate her way to the throne room, where she was greeted by Kirothius happily chewing on a bone. Faelan settled down next to her dog and petted him behind the ears while she waited for the arrival of their guests. The servants bustled around the room making last minute changes. Soon enough, Wynne entered the room from a side door and stood next to her. She seemed to be overseeing their movements and nodded approvingly when a servant walked by with a collection of chewed up bones. Of course, Kirothius watched remorsefully as his stash was taken away.

“It’ll be alright,” said Faelan, scratching his head as he looked up at her and panted happily. He playfully tried to nip her wrist as she petted him. “I will find you the best bones in town but perhaps, you would like to try something a little more exotic? Huh boy?”

“Exotic. Now that’s something that I can’t picture you enjoying,” said a familiar voice.

Faelan looked up and was greeted with Leliana’s smirk. She jumped up and gathered her old friend into a hug.

“Leliana! What are you doing here?”

Leliana gave one of her small smiles. “A little bird told me the Hero of Ferelden returned and I had to see for myself.”

“Well, I’m honored that you would do so,” replied Faelan. “Especially considering how busy you’ve been with the inquisition, as well as, being appointed the divine. I’m sure you’ve heard a dozen questions about your intentions, but are you sure that you can change the old ways? Unite the templars and the mages will be quite the feat.”

“Ahh well, it seems you have little birds of your own.”

“More like, drunken mages, who scoffed at the new divine,” said Faelan, leaning forward before adding, “I let them know my true feelings.”

“Oh how dear of you,” said Leliana with a sly smile. However, Faelan noticed that her eyes flickered away from her and she turned to see what had caught the spymaster’s attention. It would seem that another old friend had arrived. When Faelan turned around, there stood Morrigan… in a dress. Despite herself, Faelan’s jaw dropped as she tried to understand the tassels and bustles of a whalebone skirt on the woman.

“Well, I did not expect to receive you _two_ in the throne room,” purred Morrigan, raising her eyebrow. “Leliana, I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“You left without notice. I wanted to make sure that you were alright,” said Leliana carefully.

Realization dawned on Faelan, Leliana had not come to see her, but instead had been tracking Morrigan’s movements. She wondered what truly had transpired during the inquisition and looked between each woman. Alistair chose that moment to make his grand entrance and his courtly mask dropped immediately at the sight of the pair.

Morrigan looked amused when she responded. “It did not seem wise to trouble a former advisor of the disbanded inquisition, especially after becoming the divine.”

“A worthy notion,” replied Leliana, “However, it would have be nice for you to drop by.”

Faelan took this opportunity to move closer to Alistair. Standing at his side, they both exchanged a confused look while their former companions made veiled threats and hints at one another. After Faelan was certain that the matter wouldn’t solve itself. She cleared her throat and both women stopped talking while maintaining a glaring contest.

“You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m afraid that I’m rather impatient with this type of courtly behavior. What exactly is the issue? And before you answer that, should we expect anyone else this evening?” asked Faelan drily.

Morrigan and Leliana exchanged a look, before Morrigan turned and said, “Not this evening, no. However, in the near future.”

“Wonderful,” said Faelan, clapping her hands together. “I look forward to meeting these guests of yours. Foremost, I would like to air your grievances, learn if my help is needed and then ask Morrigan for hers.” Faelan took this moment to put her hands on her hips and look down at the pair sternly. “Now talk.”

Leliana stepped forward and Faelan could see the machinations happening behind her countenance. “Unfortunately, I did not come to seek your company, but instead to find out the reason that Morrigan left so abruptly.”

There was a quiet chuckle from Morrigan, who rolled her eyes. “I did not leave abruptly, I left when I was no longer needed and called away to attend to some business.”

“Would this business have anything to do with drinking from the well of sorrows?”

“Perhaps,” said Morrigan with a pause, eyeing Leliana then Faelan, “But I am not in the business of discussing my mother.”

Before Faelan could speak, the doorway to the throne room opened and a guard escorting a boy entered. Her heart skipped while her tongue froze with forgotten words as Morrigan turned and extended an arm out to her son. He had the same raven hair as his mother, as well as, the shape of her face, however it was softened by Alistair’s features; the curve of his lips, the form of his nose and wider eyes all belonged to his father. Faelan could feel that Alistair had frozen behind her.

Leliana started to say something, but Faelan raised her hand. “I believe this is a private matter and one that can be attended to tomorrow, when you are all well rested. I’m sorry that it cannot be tonight. I am weary and cannot deal with these matters with close attention. I had hoped to speak to each of you individually. At least, I hope the two of you will stay until the evening tomorrow?”

Both women affirmed their intentions to stay and before either could get a word in edgewise, Faelan began to speak once more. “Splendid,” she announced, beaming. “Would the morning agree with you, Morrigan? I would like to inspect the gardens and you always had a critical eye. Alistair can show Kieran around the castle, if that’s agreeable. And Leliana, I have some tea from the east that I think you’ll enjoy - does that sound good?”

Alistair finally spoke. “I think that sounds like a wonderful plan. However, I hope that Kieran won’t be too bored by an old man rambling on about his castle.”

Kieran shook his head and Alistair grinned at the boy. All the while, Morrigan eyed the two and Faelan flinched when she smiled at her.

However, it was like nothing had changed. Faelan watched, feeling like the grey warden, who had become commander overnight that tomorrow they would wake up in camp to face the archdemon. Leliana and Morrigan acquesisted to her plan, as if they were not masters of their own realms and plans. Each nodded to the other and Morrigan protectively put an arm around Kieran, drawing him close as Marigold led them to their rooms. However as she stared, Faelan realized that it was no longer an archdemon she faced. It involved the former inquisition, the meddling of Flemeth, Morrigan’s fate entwined with the well of sorrows and something else entirely that she was not aware of yet.

***

Faelan reached the king’s —their — room before Alistair and stood in front of the glass doors beside their bed. She stared at the dark glass and let her thoughts wash over her. A loud noise, startled Faelan from her murky musings and she turned to look at Alistair. He was closer than she expected and wearing a strange expression. She also noticed that his belt was discarded on the floor. Faelan raised her eyebrow at him as he started to unbutton his shirt. He inched his way across the room.

“Faelan,” he started, she could hear the want in his voice, but also his hesitation as he held onto her gaze, “I’ve missed you more than I can bear. And you down there reminded me of why I fell in love with you. I need you —need to have you, now.”

Without hesitation, Faelan closed the gap between them. Her fingers went to his shirt furiously unbuttoning the rest. She grinned defiantly as he attempted to kiss her, keeping out of his reach until she pulled him free of his shirt. Alistair leaned forward, pulling her to him and pressing his mouth against hers roughly until she was drawn into him. She swirled her tongue around his upper lip before pulling on his bottom lip with her teeth and felt his breath hitch. His scent overwhelmed her, the crispness of autumn leaves and the sharp tang of soap. Faelan wrenched open her shirt and Alistair’s hands went to her, teasing as they slid down the length of her body, slipping underneath her shirt and cupping her breast as he kissed her. She desperately wanted him and could feel him pressing against her, coming so close, to only be impeded by clothes. She groaned in frustration as her desire for their closeness grew.

Ravenously, Faelan kissed him, pushing him towards the bed and breaking apart only to shove him onto the bed. She kneeled over him and pressed herself against him - grinding against his hips. Alistair growled, flipping her and settling down on top. He let out a slow breath across her neck. This sent shivers down her spine and Faelan pressed herself against him, wanting him to come closer to her, to feel his skin on hers. Instead, he taunted her, pressing his mouth against her neck and suckling her collarbone as her bottom half pressed into him. Faelan moaned as his delicate touch only increased the wetness pooling between her legs. Her desire to feel Alistair inside her was becoming unbearable.

Frustrated, Faelan used her legs to push down his pants, however with a devious smile Alistair stopped and he moved away from her. The warmth evaporated and Faelan sat up immediately, hungrily watching as Alistair slowly undid his pants. He pushed the outer and inner layers down to reveal his hardness. Before Faelan could move, Alistair undid the bottoms of her pants, his fingers skimming her belly as he pulled them from her body, discarding them.

Naked and exposed, Alistair stood between Faelan’s legs and she longed for his warmth to envelop her again. He leaned down and slide his length along her. Faelan groaned, pressing herself against him. She wanted him to enter her as her pleasure began to build. Alistair stopped again, but before Faelan could glare at him, his fingers were suddenly touching her. A gasp escaped her mouth as they move over the tip of her sex, stroking her. Tauntingly, he positioned himself and rocked back and forth over her repeatedly. Her body twitched as the pressure increased and her breathing became rapid as the pair moved together. His tip teasing her opening. Aching, Faelan wrapped her legs around Alistair and pulled him into her, burrowing his thickness within her. Both gasped together.

“It’s been awhile, I may not last that long,” murmured Alistair as he looks at Faelan, who only pushed him in deeper.

In response, Alistair settled in closer to her and began to thrust; slowly at first, letting the tip come out before he plunged back in. The feeling of him inside her was incredible and with each thrust, Faelan gripped his shoulders and moaned into his ear. Her ache returned and as if he knew, Alistair began to touch her again and spasms exploded through her legs. The pressure continued to build as Alistair frantically pushed into, and caressed her. Heat pooled in-between her legs, building as Faelan arched into his slick body and felt herself progress steadily to the edge. In a few short moments, the pleasure reached its pinnacle. Faelan gasped, pressing her fingers tips into his skin, moans exploded from her as her body clenched at her core and around him. It released waves of pleasure that pulsated through her body. She was impossibly wet and couldn’t help, but look at Alistair as she savored the sensation.

Faelan clutched his arms, as the enjoyable aftermath paired with her husband’s thrusts brought forth even more lusty moans from her. She had not felt his good in years. Her legs were slick and her husband’s breath sent shivers down her spine as she rode out her orgasm. Suddenly, Alistair sunk himself deep into her, gripping her shoulders as a guttural groan escaped his mouth. He held still and Faelan felt herself clench around him as he finished; pleasure momentarily mounting in her as he finished.

Alistair without hesitation leaned down and sunk his lips onto hers. She felt herself slip into his mouth and pushed back, kissing him hard and could feel her lips chafing. After Alistair smiled at her and kissed her shoulder before he slowly rolled off Faelan and he laid flat on his back; both caught their breath and Faelan enjoyed hearing herself out of breath, not because of combat, but for the pure pleasure of good sex.


	4. A Witch, A Spymaster, and A Fatherless Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faelan spends her day entertaining and listening to old friends. Morrigan and Leliana each have their own separate agendas and plans for their friend. As Faelan learns about the events of the Inquisition and the leader, she is constantly plagued with reminders about Alistair and his relationship to Kieran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY NEW CHAPTER. I'm so sorry for procrastinating and not updating for so long. I have no excuses and probably no one anxiously waiting for a new chapter. Anyways, I tried my best with Leliana and Morrigan. I tried to capture their individual voices, but it's SO hard. I'm also very excited about where this is going - so if you hate it just quietly disappear and spare me - leave me to live alone in my warden/Alistair fantasy. 
> 
> Also sorry about the chapter summary, I cannot write short blurbs either.

In the morning, streams of sunlight woke Faelan. Sleepily, she blinked her eyes and settled into the warmth of Alistair curled around her body. It took her a few moments to realize that the night before had happened. She opened her eyes and stared at the shadow of the window pane dancing on the hardwood floor. Somehow, she had already gotten herself tangled into talking to Leliana and Morrigan while Alistair toured the castle with _his son_.

As if he knew, Alistair stirred and encircled his arms around her center. He pressed his nose into the back of her neck and murmured, “Good morning, dear.”

“Hello there, dearest,” responded Faelan, leaning into his embrace. For a couple of moments, the two enjoyed the peaceful silence of the morning. “Thoughts about today?”

Alistair mumbled something incoherent against her skin. To that, Faelan rolled over and pressed several pointed, but gentle kisses to her husband’s forehead and cheeks in an attempt to rouse him. “Today should be interesting.”

“Only if you want to hear the wit of Morrigan,” muttered Alistair, groggily squinting at her.

“Unlike you,” said Faelan, sitting up and stretching, “I do enjoy Morrigan’s company. And, you should be pleased that you don’t have to deal with her… at least for today.”

Alistair rolled over and rubbed his eyes before proceeding to stare at the ceiling. “You know, I think I would actually prefer the company of Morrigan. Can you believe that? At least with her, I know that she abhors my presence, but with Kieran, I can’t help and wonder if he knows… And what to say and do to avoid such a topic. Honestly, I’d rather face the archdemon again.”

An ache pricked her heart. She stared down at her husband and watched his face for a couple of seconds. He never looked at her and immediately, she understood that he felt guilty for talking, and for wanting to spend with the boy. _His son_ corrected Faelan to herself. “Treat him as you would’ve when you were his age, but give him the respect you would any noble’s son. I doubt he will find it strange considering he is the child of an old friend. Whether he knows, it is not polite to talk of lineage, but when the times comes, and if it arrives, then he will know that you were always kind and generous towards him.”

With that, Faelan did not wait for a response, but picked herself off the bed and dressed for the day.

***

Somehow, Faelan managed to find her way to the garden. She did admit, rather reluctantly, that she had exited the castle as soon as she could and then followed the pebbled path towards greenery in the distance. She arrived first and took the opportunity to look around at the maze of green. There were emerald hedges that raced around in linear lines and flourishing flowers ordered and sectioned off between gaps in the hedges, as well, as impressive marble benches stationed at intervals along the path. Although it was much larger than the quaint garden in Highever, Faelan couldn’t help but be reminded of home. She fingered a still budding rose and thought briefly of her brother, Fergus.

Fergus had settled into Highever and surprisingly, remarried one of the Chasind. Like his sister, both had chosen unexpected partners. Despite herself, Faelan smiled at a memory of Fergus’ romantic murmurings to Oriana and her disgust. He had sworn that her attitude would change when she met the right person and he had been right. However, he had been shocked when Faelan married the to be king of Ferelden.

“What are you smiling at? It’s not a rose is it, or are you remembering that wretched flower Alistair carried for weeks before he gave it to you?” smirked Morrigan, appearing at Faelan’s side.

Startled, Faelan dropped her hand from the rose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about - it was a wonderfully romantic gesture. I even pressed it,” admitted Faelan, trying to goad Morrigan.

“Always grossly maudlin, but I supposed you deserve some happiness after everything,” mused Morrigan, she paused and carefully eyed the verdant bushes. Faelan assumed she was looking for unwanted ears, but they were the only two there. “Unfortunately, I’m about to inform you of some rather dreadful new.”

“Just what I needed. Tell me, Morrigan, what has happened in my absence?”

The pair began to walk the garden, following the trail of trimmed bushes and blooming flowers. “Far too much. I won’t say that the inquisitor is incapable, but she does lack a certain flair. More importantly, In our journey to stop Corypheus, we discovered several things. First, my mother returned and revealed to have made a deal with Mythal. Luckily, you did not have to hear her elusive babble, but in short, she intends to possess me at some point and also removed the old god’s soul from Kieran. I know,” Morrigan replied to Faelan’s open mouth. “That’s the least of our worries. Her presence also revealed one of the inquisitor’s companions as Fen’Harel.”

At this, Faelan came to a stop and stared at Morrigan. “ _The_ dread wolf? I remember hearing his legend in the Brecilian Forest, something about wanting to bring glory back to the elves and that he’s supposed to be a god of deception.”

“Well, when you’re dealing with Flemeth how could you not be dealing with deception?” muttered Morrigan drily, eyeing Faelan. “Anyways, Solas, as he was known to us, disappeared after we defeated Corypheus. Eventually, I was able to find Flemeth’s body.”

Again, Faelan stopped. “Her body?”

“More like her vessel. At this point we do not know if she lives or not,” said Morrigan, who did not stop, and Faelan trotted to catch up. “The inquisitor knew that Solas was not, who we thought, but Flemeth’s body confirmed his identity as a dread wolf. Mother always lended a hand at the most auspicious times, and left behind a scroll detailing one of his tales, involving Mythal on her person.”

“What does he want?”

“That we do not know,” admitted Morrigan stopping. The two had arrived at a pond tucked away in the corner of the garden; colorful dish darted around in the cobalt-green shallows and disturbed the various lily pads. Faelan watched Morrigan as she eyed the water. “There are, of course, theories and foolish sentiments, but I believe there is a connection between the old gods and the elven ones. And Flemeth took Kieran’s god soul for a purpose.”

“So, Kieran is just a boy now?” asked Faelan, hoping to conceal the pointedness in her voice. The familiar ache returned and she tried not to show any emotion as she waited for a response.

Morrigan looked up from the pond and evaluated Faelan. Her yellow-tinged eyes searching Faelan’s face before she decided to answer. “Yes, Kieran is an ordinary fatherless bastard, but he _is_ mine. Don’t think that I haven’t noticed your machinations - he will never belong to the Fereldan court, or to Alistair, and if he suspects his parentage then it is no doing of mine.”

“Quite contrary to my intentions. I have no desire to take away your son, but only worry about the future I promised Alistair once,” said Faelan with a sigh. “I have traveled far and wide to find a cure for the Warden’s taint, but it may be too late. We are no longer the youthful individuals, who stared down the Fifth Blight, but burdened with too many unanswered questions. Now that you have shared yours, I wonder if I can divulge mine and share the details of the ritual meant to ride the taint. I believe you will find it quite interesting.”

Slowly, Morrigan showed an amused smile. “Do tell, I do enjoy arcane rituals.”

The pair walked away from the pond, leaving behind and the fish, who could continue to swim around peacefully and only disturb the lilies. As they walked, Faelan revealed the burden she carried, outlined the ritual and secured the witch’s help in performing her hard sought after cure.

***

Breathless, Faelan arrived in her office. It was late in the afternoon and her guest had already arrived before her. Leliana had her back to the door and seemed to be examining the various trophies, tomes, and an assortment of items decorating the room. Slipping into the room, Faelan quietly watched Leliana as her attention focused on the replica of the archdemon’s head accompanied by an embossed tag that read: “lifelike”. It was the size of a rat’s head.

“Oghren gave that to me. He thought it was funny,” commented Faelan, leaning against the door.

Leliana didn’t even flinch. She merely turned around and smiled. “He was always… a bit odd.”

“I think drunk is the word you’re looking for,” replied Faelan. She walked through the threshold and closed the door behind her. She had a feeling that this conversation would not be for everyone’s ears. “Morrigan has told me the important details about the Inquisition, at least from her perspective, including the news about Flemeth and Solas.”

“You were always perceptive,” remarked Leliana, still gazing at the collection of books as she walked closer to Faelan. “Yes, the inquisitor met Flemeth and Morrigan drank from the well of sorrows and Corypheus is not our true enemy - what Morrigan would have left out are some of the finer details.”

“Well, let me fetch our tea and we can discuss,” said Faelan, moving towards the door. She found Marigold and gestured for the girl to enter. She carried a gold and indigo tea tray laden with two saucers, a small pristine pitcher of honey, a round container of sugar and a plate piled high with expensive colored pastries. She bustled into the room and laid out the tea while Faelan motioned for Leliana to sit at the round table situated into a nook that extended out and overlooked the gardens. In a few moments, when Marigold finished, Faelan ushered her out and sat down. She took one of the cups, placed the strainer on top before she poured the hot water into the delicate porcelain and then did the same for Leliana.

The two blew on their tea and sipped in silence before Leliana put the cup down and sighed. “I thought you’d enjoy that,” said Faelan, knowingly. The tea came from the far reaches of Orlais and was normally only sold to the noble class. She had a feeling that Leliana had not been given such a luxury in a while.

“I have not had such a delicacy in so long,” confessed Leliana. “It is good to have you back.”

“Yes, I have heard the inquisitor lacks _a certain flair_ ,” replied Faelan amused, enjoying the warmth of the cup in her hands.

“Valaena is a good leader,” started Lelina, staring off into the distance, “but she does not understand the consequences of loss. She has never led an army into battle, or experienced something like the Battle of Ostagar, and does not know what it takes to come crawling back from defeat,” described Leliana. “She is the reason I wish to speak with you.”

“And I thought you were only here to check in on Morrigan,” teased Faelan.

Leliana paused. “You among some other things... Valaena Trevelyan became the leader of the Inquisition after she developed the anchor on her left palm. It allowed her to close rifts and disrupt the enemies that came from them. However after a time, the anchor became unstable and Solas was forced to amputate Valaena’s arm to save her. She has been taking it well, but it has affected her combat skills significantly.”

Faelan raised her eyebrow and watched Leliana as she took another sip of her tea. “While I am intrigued by the leader of the former Inquisition I am not sure how this pertains to me.”

“Besides her combat skills, you already know that the inquisition has disbanded at least on the surface. We are continuing our efforts to find Solas and stop whatever he intends to do. And I believe that we are about to engage in a battle that could be even bigger than facing the archdemon and as I said before, Valaena lacks certain skills, not just in combat, but also in leadership.”

Bemused, Faelan set her teacup down. “Leliana, I will not usurp the inquisitor. For one, I am not equipped to handle such a responsibility when I haven’t even been in the country during Corypheus’ plight.”

Leliana revealed a smile. It made Faelan’s stomach squirm. “No, Faelan that is not what I am proposing. What I should add is this: myself, Josephine Montilyet and Cullen Rutherford serve as advisors to the Inquisition-

“Wait,” interrupted Faelan, sputtering on her tea. “Cullen Rutherford? The former knight templar, who wanted to kill all the mages in the tower? That Cullen Rutherford?”

“Yes, _that_ Cullen Rutherford. He has changed over the years and no longer holds those radical views. I believe he feels guilty for his previous actions,” acknowledged Leliana in a tired manner. “However, I have some other concerns about Cullen’s abilities to remain focused on his duties as the military commander since becoming involved with Valaena.”

Faelan shook her head. “So? Alistair and I were in love when we ended the fifth blight.”

“Interesting choice of words,” noted Leliana, picking out a pink pastry and taking a bite out of it. Faelan went over her previous statement and realized she had used past tense. Leliana had already moved on. “Not only am I concerned about his ability to make decisions, but also hers in regards to doing what is best for them versus the country.”

“Again, I’m not sure how this pertains to me. I actually put myself and my lover on the throne, Leliana, if you remember correctly,” said Faelan gently, taking her own cookie and laying it carefully on her plate.

Leliana leaned forward and spoke. “What I am proposing is this: you are the former Warden Commander and still elicit respect from their ranks. Before you were a grey warden, you were projected to be the teyrn of Highever despite being second born and a girl. You have led your comrades into battle, killed an archdemon and ended the Fifth Blight. And now you are the queen of Ferelden. You are exactly what this disbanded inquisition needs. I want you to join the inquisition as an advisor.”

Faelan gaped. “Leliana, I am flattered, but as you have already pointed out: I am queen of Ferelden, and I’ve left that post absent for far too long.”

“Yes, I know and now I will disclose another part of my proposal. I ask, upon your acceptance, that the operations of the inquisition move to Denerim. We need a cover and serving the Ferelden king in his court would be a perfect opportunity for us former heroes. ”

Faelan sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. She already knew that Leliana had backed her into a corner that she couldn’t possibly escape from. Leliana continued to lay out her logic. “I also ask because you have illustrated your abilities as a leader, you are still combat ready, and have experience that will be invaluable to a young, promising mind,” Leliana paused, as she swirled the contents of her tea, before she added, “And, you need something to root you here.”

Immediately, anger flashed through Faelan. She rose, bumping the table, which caused the tea in her cup to slosh around, as she fought to control her indignation. “You have no right to speak to me that way.”

Leliana slowly rose, placing her empty teacup down. “I apologize for offending you, but you are my friend and I will not see you diminished. If I see it, then everyone else will come to see it as well, so I am sparing you the embarrassment. I do not want to say these things, but you have aided me in a period, where I was lost,” consoled Leliana, she covered Faelan’s hand with her own. “You became queen to help Alistair. He has taken to the role and no longer needs someone to guide him. And unfortunately, you have no heirs and cannot busy yourself with that responsibility. And so, I think it would serve you well to consider and accept my offer. Think it over, Faelan, before you respond.”

With those words, Leliana rose, straightened her robes and walked from the room. Dejected, Faelan sat down hard and stared out the window. She felt completely at a loss for words and her thoughts tumbled over one another. She had worried about her absence and Leliana, apt and blunt as usual, had spoken them out loud. Despite her tears, Faelan knew that her assessment was correct. She had no place here, a demure queen was not needed, she had no children to fret over, and she needed to show the people why she had become their queen.

There was a simple solution, she would accept Leliana’s offer.


End file.
